Indie lay in their bed, his eyes closed. He looked pale and unwell. He looked dead. When the door creaked as he pushed it open, Indie’s eyes fluttered open tiredly. The boy stood in the doorway guilt, shame, and a horrible dread on his face. Was he really hurting Indie when he did his tricks? Has he always been hurting his brother? Indie, never a one to deny him comfort, held out a hand weakly and motioned him over. The boy rushed to his side and stood over him.

“Is Jay right, Indie?” he whispered softly, afraid that somehow even using his voice would hurt him.

“I think he might be.” Indie replied carefully. “I don’t know what you’re doin’ when you do them tricks, but I know I don’t feel right. I’ve been tellin’ you.”

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry.” The boy agreed, repenting on the spot. He sniffled and flung himself at his brother only to stop just before landing on him and slowly lowered his head down to his chest. He listened to his brother’s heart, steady and strong and sobbed.

“We gotta figure this out somehow, Rat. You need help with this. Do you think Jay was handed the keys and told he could drive?” he asked gently. The boy on his chest shook his head. “It’s the same for you. You gotta practice in a safe way first before doing things like zippin’ up my face or think-talkin’ to Jay.”

“I don’t want to use it anymore, Indie. I don’t want to hurt you," declared the boy and he stood up to show that he meant it. Indie’s face was sad and a little angry.

“It don’t work like that, Rat. You got it inside you, so you gotta use it. And now we know you can help people. If you don’t use your gifts now that you know that, it’s selfish. You ain’t a selfish kid, I know that.” Indie remonstrated. He lay quiet for a minute and then scooted over in the bed, allowing a small space for the boy to sit.

“How can I learn to use it safely, though? I don’t know what it even is,” bemoaned the child as he plopped next to Indie. He had been in touch with these parts of himself for as long as he could remember but he recently found he could do more if Indie was around, or even more if all the brothers were near him. He always thought it was confidence and the excitement in showing them something special. Now, he wasn’t sure.

Indie chewed his lip, thinking.

“Well,” he mused. “Do you think you could talk about it without using it? I mean, if I asked questions about it could you answer them without using it?” The boy held his breath, gently probing the special thing inside him that let him do tricks. He watched Indie’s face carefully, looking for any signs of distress. Finally, assured that Indie felt nothing, he nodded.

“I can touch it without hurtin’ you.” It felt weird to talk about his abilities without being secretive.

“Ok. Let me think of some easy questions to start with,” said his brother. He pulled himself into a sitting position and winced. He grabbed his temple and closed his eyes. The boy laid a tiny hand on his arm and squeezed gently. “I’m ok,” Indie reassured him.

“I’m sorry…” the boy’s voice was so quiet that Indie’s eyes snapped open.

“Are you ok, Rat? You gonna fall down?”

“I’m fine. I’m just sad.” He kept this tiny hand on his brother’s arm and nodded. “Ask me somethin’.”

“Hmm.” Indie looked around the room for inspiration. “Ah, ok. This one is easy.” Indie drew in a deep breath and smiled kindly. “Ready?”

“I’m ready.” The boy nodded again and clenched his fingers tightly on Indie’s arm.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“How old were you when you first did something special?” It wasn’t a question the boy expected, and he relaxed. That was easy to answer.

“I was hearin’ Momma’s thoughts when I was in her belly.” He said proudly. Indie just frowned.

“No, Rat, I mean really remember. Like, clearly.” He explained.

“Yeah, when I was in her belly, I could hear her thinkin’ things about me and about the babies that she lost. She was very sad but very happy. She would talk to me sometimes, but I didn’t answer then, I wasn’t sure how to,” Rat insisted. “It’s very fuzzy because I was a baby, and honestly babies are kinda dumb, but I do remember her talkin’ to me.”

Indie listened carefully and then nodded, seeming to accept the explanation.

“Ok, so forever. What about hidin’ things? When did you learn to do that?”

That was harder to answer. The boy wasn’t sure he could explain to Indie what he did without touching the special space inside himself. He carefully turned inward and nudged the power that he was holding onto. It felt like a cold current of icy electricity. He dipped an invisible finger into it and looked at Indie. He could do that much on his own without borrowing from Indie. Slowly, he reached a whole hand into his secret place and pulled out a frost covered pebble. Indie showed no signs of feeling what he was doing.

“It was cake.” He said simply and Indie smiled. His brother knew that he liked sweets.

“Cake ain’t an age, Rat,” he teased.

“Chocolate cake from your birthday. I ‘member wantin’ to save my slice for later because I wasn’t hungry and I knowed that if I left it the twins or Jay would eat it. So, I tried to hide it in my special place. But later when I took it out it was frozen and then it thawed out into a soggy mess. I was so sad,” he said as he effortlessly hid the pebble again. Indie closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath. The boy bit his lip and apologized.

“That was only comin’ up on a year ago.” Indie said, more to himself than to the boy. The little one shrugged, unsure of the time frames. “What about what you call mind-talkin’? Is that the same as hearin’ or seeing what I’m seein’?” Again, the boy reached inside him, carefully containing his invisible hands to his own person. He extended the incorporeal hand and touched Indie’s face and then dove into his mind.

Is he trying it now? He looks like he’s concentratin’. Rat, if you can hear me, nod. The boy nodded once, still trying to keep the invisible part of him from interacting with Indie too much. Indie’s eyes widened.

Holy shit. Holy shit. This is nuts. The boy smiled widely, used to the reaction. It was so funny to him. Then he tried to put his mind into Indie’s.

Does this hurt you, Indie? He whispered gently with his silent voice. Indie’s body started to shake, and the boy immediately withdrew his hands from the current inside him and took his hand off his brother’s arm.

“I stopped.” He held his hands up. “I’m sorry.”

“Ok, buddy. That’s enough for today. I’m so tired. Climb into bed with me and let’s take a nap.” Indie suggested. The boy nodded.

When he lay next to his brother, this time he held Indie, comforting him and apologizing with his gentle pets and tight hugs. He felt his older brother relax and tears pricked his eyes. This was all his fault. Indie being sick, Momma sad, Jay…

He drew up short and he couldn’t breathe. Would Indie talk to him about their eldest brother or was he still going to tell him no, not yet?

“Indie, I’m scared for Jay.” His brother sighed and swallowed hard.

“Me, too. He made Pops real mad, Rat. I ain’t never seen Pops so mad.” Indie agreed.

“He hit Pops.” Stated the child. Indie just nodded. “He deserved it,” whispered the boy. After a beat Indie nodded again.

“But if the twins hadn’t stopped him…” Indie left off the end of his thought. “Things are going to be hard for a little. Stay out of Jay’s way and don’t bother him. Listen to everything Pops says. Don’t give either of them a reason to hit you.”

“I could stop them if they tried,” the boy said, anger rising in his voice.

“No, Rat. You gotta promise me you won’t use your tricks until we can work together on them more. You promise me?” he held out a pinkie to his brother and waited. The boy looked at his brother’s pinkie and hesitated. He loved to do his tricks, but the teen was right. He was going to hurt someone, probably Indie. He linked his pinkie with his brother’s and agreed.

“I promise.”